Go Your Own Way
by IronIsraeliButterfly
Summary: It's Paris and Ziva has to explain to Tony the past couple of years and the relationship between them. Rated T for language


**Title: **Go Your Own Way

**Author: **IronIsraeliButterfly

**A/N: **Based off the song "Go Your Own Way," by Fleetwood Mac. Ziva explains to Tony why she doesn't _want_ to be with Tony. French translation at the bottom. Dedicated to the anti-Tiva movement! The time line's a little messed up, but whatever. Rated M for language.

"Loving you isn't the right thing to do  
>How can I ever change things that I feel?<br>If I could, baby I'd give you my world  
>How can I, when you won't take it from me?"<p>

-"Go Your Own Way," Fleetwood Mac

«Nous sommes ici pour vérifier dans notre chambre d'hôtel, la réservation est sous lenom de David. Assurez-vous il ya deux lits." Ziva tapped her foot impatiently as she leaned against the mahogany counter that was lined with gold and marble.  
>«Vous deux ne sont pas mariés?" The outfitted clerk looked genuinely surprised.<br>«Non, nous ne sommes pas." Ziva shot back.  
>«Malheureusement, la seule salle de gauche dans l'hôtel est un lit un."<br>"Qu'en est-il un lit?"  
>"Pas de lits, madame. Est-il un autre moyen que je peux vous aider?"<br>«Non, mais vous en remercie." Ziva took the key and pulled Tony along with her to the lift.

"What's the problem, Ziva?" he asked as the door closed.

"The problem is, Tony, is that we are stuck together on an overseas protection detail in a hotel room together with _one bed_. I am not one of your toys, Tony, and I will sleep on the couch. Don't even think about us having sex."

"_Tell me why everything turned around?__  
><em>_Packing up, shacking up, is all you wanna do__  
><em>_If I could baby I'd give you my world__  
><em>_Open up, everything's waiting for you"_

The sunset was breathtaking from their balcony. They had an multi-million dollar view of the Champs de Elysees, the Arc de Triompe and the Eiffel Tower. The sky was melting into a brilliant cascade of colours: pinks, oranges, and purples. As he sat on the corner of the bed watching her silhouette, arms spread across the elegant railing, he was irresistibly reminded of their uncover mission as married assassins. She looked beautiful, with the wind rushing through her hair. He walked slowly to the balcony and watched her as she gazed down on the scenery as it slowly lit up.

After several minutes of silence, Ziva spoke. "You know, I was supposed to meet Ari here after I finished in DC. I made the call in the NCIS headquarters. You know, I still remember the rain when I made the phone call. I had never seen so much rain. I remember thinking that the sky was mourning the loss of Kate. I wish I could have met her."

"You would have liked her," Tony said softly. "She would have liked you. You had a lot in common."

"Like what?" Ziva asked.

"You both were fighters – and I mean not in the physical way, but that too. You both fought for what you believed in and you were ready to die for that. You aren't intimidated easily. You're both attractive, but you don't act like it. You're both brilliant cooks – I used to steal Kate's lunches all the time."

"Why don't you steal mine?"

"I don't want you to slit my fucking wrist, Ziva. You would have liked her – Abby used to go on weekends with Kate. They were best friends. And I mean best friends. I think Abby took it the hardest when Kate died, else than Gibbs."

"I feel guilty for Kate's death."

"Why you of all people?" Tony asked, his eyes wide open.

"I was his commanding officer. I should have noticed that something was off. I should have realized."

"Ziva, there's no reason for you to blame yourself."

A lone tear strayed down her cheek and she made no motion to move it away. "Its all crap, Tony, fucking crap. Its all shit. Shit, I'm telling you. There's nothing good about war. You know why we have these jobs? Because people kill Marines and sailors. And why do we have Marines and sailors? Because there's crappy assholes out there who wake up and think, hell, let's kill a person today! Let's blow a bus with a sixteen year old on it who's going to visit her best friend in the hospital who just got blown up herself! Let's stab a baby in a baby carriage with her parents standing right there! Let's drive a plane into a tower! And sometimes, I just stand on the balcony of my apartment and wonder if maybe the idea is to just drive a bullet through my head cause I fucking killed so many people! Parents, husbands, friends, I don't know what the hell else!"

Tony pursed his lips. "Ziva, you have so much potential to give."

"To what, be a mother? _That's_ giving. But my biological clock keeps going off and I keep hitting the snooze button. "

"So let's go halves on a kid."

Ziva looked up at him. "No."

"What do you mean, no? I want a little DiNozzo running around and with our looks and our brains and our mad skills it'll be absolutely perfect."

"Tony, we aren't meant to be together."

"Ever seen _The Adjustment Bureau?_"

"Ray took me." The sad look came back. Tony knew that thinking of her dead fiancée hurt her terribly still, two years later. "And to be adjusted you have to be in love. I have never been in love with you Tony, contrary to popular belief. Okay, maybe I once was, but I realized you and I could never be together. We're very different, from very different backgrounds and we have very different ideas of how we want to spend our lives. Why can't we just be friends, Tony?"

"Is there somebody else, Ziva?" Tony asked, his heart plummeting down, into a place irretrievable. Even if Ziva wasn't in love with Tony, Tony was head over heels in love with her. Who wouldn't be?

"Why does there have to be anyone else? I just am not for you, Tony. You need to find someone who doesn't live the life of a ticking time bomb, ready to explode."

"Maybe that life is intriguing to me."

"I'll say it again: we're friends, nothing more than that."

Tony sighed as the sun disappeared past the horizon, and she walked by him into the room, brushing by him. He closed his eyes at her touch, relishing the feel that he would seemingly never have.

"Just friends." And somehow, he realized, many hours later, as he watched the sun rose over Paris that the description suited him just right.

"_You can go your own way__  
><em>_Go your own way__  
><em>_You can call it another lonely day__  
><em>_Another lonely day__  
><em>_You can go your own way__  
><em>_Go your own way"__  
><em>

fin

French translation:

"We are here to check in our hotel room, the reservation is under thename of sure there are two beds. "Ziva Her foot tapped impatiently as she leanedagainst-the-counter That Was mahogany with gold and marble lined.  
>"You two are not married?" The clerk outfitted Looked genuinely surprised.<br>"No, we're not." Ziva shot back.  
>"Unfortunately, the only room left in a hotel bed."<br>"What about a bed?"  
>"No beds, madame. Is there another way I can help you?"<br>"No, but thank you." Took the key Ziva and Tony Pulled Along With Her to the lift.  
>"What's the problem, Ziva?" He Asked as the door closed.<p> 


End file.
